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Friday, January 23, 2015

"Loving My Brother Like a Lover"

From the Experience Project:
I now realize I was on [the] verge of a mental breakdown over the bullying I was getting at school and my lack of social skills. My mother never really mentored me on social behavior and wouldn't even let me start a conversation about boys or sex. [...] I was only one of three girls out of a hundred that wasn't wearing a bra by sixth grade. With my short hair, I easily passed for a boy in gym class. Taking a school shower was pure torture as the girls hooted and laughed at my lack of a butt and breasts. When the acne appeared, my life turned into a horror. I was pretty much a social outcast and it was affecting my grades and mind as well.
Once my aunt came to visit and took over my room, my life took a turn for the better, although it took me months to realize it. My brother's rooms were on the third floor and mom rarely ever went up there. Robbie and I had all the privacy we needed and the relationship blossomed slowly, giving it a lot more meaning for me. I'm sure he had no idea that things would turn out as they did, but we didn't pull away as things heated up that winter. His kiss on my forehead was the first one I received from a boy and I guess it had a tremendous effect on my thinking at the time. All I remember was his touch and real concern for me when I was deep in depression.
Within a month, we were sharing his big bed and I was happy and warm at night. Even on the third floor, the farmhouse was drafty and cold. Snuggled up under his comforter was a blessing, as my aunt got mine. I could go on for hours on the ways he made me feel like a human being instead of a freak. The simple fact is, he provided me with lots of support that I desperately needed at the time.
Neither my mother or my aunt showed any interest in helping me through my problems, so I relied on him more and more. When we finally took the big step and became intimate, he made me realize I was worth something as a person and pulled me back into the light. My dark days were over once I woke up in his arms that morning, naked, but feeling strangely calm, and for some reason I've never put my finger on - free. My brother saved me from a complete mental breakdown and proved I was a real person. Once I found a guy in college, I was a confident young woman, in charge of my life. I'm firmly convinced, my relationship with my older brother made my successes possible and I love him for it.
[...] [O]nce established in his room it only took a few months before I felt so comfortable with him that I often let him see me in my undies and sometimes a bit less. As we became intimate, my actual love for him grew to the point that he was rarely out of my mind. By the middle of winter, we were nightly bed mates and I was coming out of my depression. Someone actually thought I was worth something and I needed that desperately. Mom and my aunt [were] no help to me at all and just wanted me to stay out of their busy lives.
Brother came and filled that void for me in so many ways. Sex was only one of the ways, but as I learned things about my body and what felt good, he responded wonderfully to my newly found needs. By the end of that winter, I was having more sex in a month than mom had in a year. The more I had, the more I wanted and my brother, being a typical guy, never turned me down - not once! [...]
I miss him terribly at times and often imagine its him inside me when I have sex with my husband - a very rare thing these days. Its the only way now I can enjoy the act at all. I do miss my ten years and don't regret having my brother as a teacher and a lover. Mom was clueless the entire time, thankfully.
[...] Writing these stories has brought back so many wonderful memories of our times together. One was my fourteenth birthday. Mom and my aunt never acknowledged [my birthday] (or any since my eleventh), but my older brother, the love of my life, did. He bought me a floating heart necklace that I still have and wear. It was the best present I ever got. While mom and the rest sat downstairs watching television, brother and I were in our room on the third floor slow dancing. I was in heaven as I held on to him tightly, keeping him close to me. I think it was about ten or so as we stood watching the moon out our window when he turned and gave me a long kiss. I melted!
As you can guess by now, we ended up in bed and I still remember his tenderness as we had sex again that week. I was convinced life couldn't get any better and all my problems at school disappeared, at least for the night. I wore my necklace to school every day and the other girls wondered where I got it. My one friend (an outcast like me) [knew], but she kept my secret. All in all, it was a wonderful night and he took a picture of me the next morning of me, in just my bra and jeans, wearing it. I was so used to dressing with him that this didn't bother me at all. I was comfortable with my body, thanks to him, so posing for the picture was fun for me. When he left for college, he had dozens of pictures to take with him, some very racy. I have them now, and the memories are still very real. In my case, [consanguinamory] was a wonderful thing and made me a secure woman with a family of my own to raise. Even though I'm married, I still miss his tenderness and slow lovemaking. My husband will never be his equal there.
[...] I went attic searching and found a small box of Polaroid pictures we took of each other that mom never knew existed. [...] Seeing me as I was then, convinced me beyond all doubt that he really loved me, but more than a normal brother/sister thing. [...] I was a mess!
All these pictures put things into a new perspective for me and has deepened my love for him. His love for me, that some would call criminal, was so deep, it's now hard for me to accurately describe it. I was truly blessed when mom put us in the same upstairs room and we found each other. She had no idea that we had become lovers that winter and I was honing my coping skills for adulthood. [...]
As I said before, I turned out to be a well adjusted female and have no regrets about making love to my own brother. I often see him in my mind when my husband and I have sex. It's still a huge turn-on for me that he'll never know about.


  1. Reminds me of me and my sister, who were lovers for three years whilst attending the same out-of-town university and sharing an apartment. We never messed with each other whilst growing up. Three months after sharing the same apartment, we made love for the first time. It was only after long discussions and open hearted talks about intrafamilial sex. We decided that we would try it once; if either had any regrets afterwards, we would not do it again. As it turned out, both enjoyed it, neither had any hangups about making love to each other, fulfilling in each other's physical and spiritual needs. Our parents never knew, although our mother showed signs of suspecting something. During holidays, when we were at home, mum asked my sister whether she was practising sex, and if so, whether she used contraception. Sis asked mum: "Why on earth would you ask someting like that, mother?" To which mum replied: "Well, I don't want you to fall pregnant, especially not by your brother." The topic was never raised again.

    It sadly ended after three years when my sister completed her studies and moved elsewehere. (She as 18 months older than I am). A few times afterwards we again made love when the opportunity arose. Both are happily married now, but often we would reminisce about the wonderful times together when talking on the phone. The first time I [had sex with] my sister was the most erotic experience of my life, and one I will always cherish and remember. [...]

    1. Thanks for sharing, Anonymous. It's pretty common that things come to an end when siblings move apart. I'm glad that y'all still have such a good relationship with each other. I wish y'all the best.

    2. If you ever want to talk, you can reach me via my secure email: [the name of my blog]